I'll Be Seeing You
by Ollie.x3
Summary: AU. Post-5x10. "As she breathes heavily and waits for the nurses instruction to push, she wonders if this is her punishment. After all her years of scheming, and lying, and manipulating, was this her penalty?" Sensitive subject matter.


I'd been planning to write something like this, for a while, as I was disgusted by the way the writer's treated Blair's miscarriage. It's a very sensitive subject, and I hope I have been respectful.

I own nothing.

* * *

**I'LL BE SEEING YOU**

_I'll be seeing you_  
_In all the old familiar places_  
_That this heart of mine embraces_  
_All day through._

I'll Be Seeing You - Billie Holiday

Serena is by her side, holding her hand and pushing her hair back from her face. Her face is wet with sweat and tears, and exhaustion threatens to consume her. She knows that this is the only way; that she lost too much blood for a ceaserean section to even be an option. But that doesn't mean she can't hate every last second of it.

"Come on, B. You can do this," Serena assures her.

Blair's not sure that she can. She's always considered herself a strong woman, but she doesn't think she's strong enough, to do this. Louis is gone, the love of her life is in a coma, and she's giving birth to a baby that she knows will never cry, or laugh, or smile.

As she breathes heavily and waits for the nurses instruction to push, she wonders if this is her punishment. After all her years of scheming, and lying, and manipulating, was this her penalty?

She sobs through the final push, turns her head away when they lift up the baby. Serena kisses her head, strokes her hair, but she doesn't feel it. She doesn't feel anything, anymore.

They let her rest, briefly, before she has to deliver the afterbirth. She refuses to look at her child. She doesn't want to hold it, fall in love with it, when she knows it'll never truly be hers.

The room is silent, until Blair speaks, her voice rough and broken.

"You know, so many people have called me a bitch," she muses. Tears fall from Serena's eyes, as she stares at her, unnerved by Blair's sardonic smile, and expressionless eyes. "But compared to Karma, I'm a saint."

* * *

Chuck is put into a medically-induced coma, while he recovers from his internal injuries. Serena informs her that he needed a blood tranfusion, and she cries, as she thinks about him, alone in his room.

"When can I see him?" she asks the nurse.

"You should be resting, Miss. Waldorf," she tells her, avoiding her question. "Childbirth is hard on your body. You shouldn't be moving around."

"I don't care," she snaps. "I want to see him."

Serena takes her to his room, in a wheelchair - the nurse insisted - and leaves her alone with him. His head is wrapped in gauze, and the heart monitor beside his bed, beats in a steady rythmn. He looks peaceful; like he's sleeping.

She rises out of the wheelchair, winces in pain, as she walks the small distance from the chair to his bed, and lies down next to him. Her arm wraps around her waist, and her head is on his chest. She hates that he isn't holding her; isn't responding to her touch.

"You need to wake up," she tells him. "You need to wake up, and help me through this."

Her tears slide down her cheek, and onto his hospital gown. It's blue, and ugly, and the material is itchy. If Chuck were awake, he would be so embarassed, and demand that they allowed him to change into a set of his silk pajamas. She laughs to herself, at that thought.

"It was a girl," she says, her voice quiet. "I was going to name her Scarlett. Scarlett Eleanor Waldorf-Grimaldi. Quite a moutful."

She keeps up this pretense for a few minutes longer, making polite one-sided conversation, before she lets out a loud sob. Her fist closes around the fabric of his gown, as she cries on top of his unconcious body.

"I need you to wake up, Chuck. I need you to wake up!"

She feels someone pulling her away, lifting her into their arms. She recognizes Nate's voice as he whispers, "It's going to be okay" in her ear, over and over again. Her arms go around his neck, and her face is buried in his chest, and it's not until she feels her best friend's arms wrap around her, that she realizes he has taken her back to her room.

She lies on her hospital bed, between two of her best friends, as she falls into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Her mother makes sure the Grimaldi ring is sent back to Louis' family, and she gives Blair the hand-written letter, than her ex-fiancée sent to her.

She rips it up, throws it in the trash. He is now insignificant to her.

Eleanor tells her that she has made funeral arrangements for the following week, and that Princess Sophie is very sorry, but she won't be able to make it.

"I'm not going."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going," she repeats.

"But Blair... this is your _child_. You have to go."

She turns to her mother, her eyes narrowed. "I don't have to do _anything_."

"Blair," Eleanor says, reaching for her daughter, but she flinches away.

"I'm going to my room."

Eleanor is lost. She doesn't know what to do, and watching her daughter walk around her home like a zombie, is killing her. She doesn't go out, she rarely eats, and the only person she allows into her bedroom is Serena.

"You have to talk her round," she tells the blonde girl one night, when she enters the penthouse. "This is her baby's funeral. She has to go."

Her efforts are wasted. A week after she entered the world, Scarlett is being put in the ground, while Blair lies on her bed, drinking from a bottle of vodka. An hour later, guests arrive at the Waldorf penthouse for the wake, while she is passed out, in her bedroom.

Later that afternoon, Serena bursts into her bedroom, shakes her awake.

"Go away," Blair moans. "I don't want to see anybody."

"Blair, you need to sober up! Chuck is awake."

Blair sits up, still drunk, but coherent enough to understand what this means.

"He's awake?" Her eyes are glassy, and her hands are shaking, slightly. "I have to go to him!" she says, her words rushed and frantic.

Serena blocks her path, as she attempts to stumble out of the room.

"You need to sober up, first. They won't let you into the hospital, like this."

They spend an hour together, Blair drinking all the water she can, and Serena giving her copious amounts of the food being served, downstairs.

"Is everybody down there?" she asks, nervous.

"Most people left," Serena replies. "It was awkward, to say the least. Everyone noticed your absence."

Blair shakes her head. "I just couldn't do it, S. I couldn't bury my baby."

Serena sighs and pulls her into a hug, strokes her hair, lovingly.

"I know, B. And nobody blames you, for not going. This is a horrible tragedy, and you need to deal with it in your own way."

"I can't deal with it," Blair cries, resting her forehead on her shoulder. "Not until I know he's okay."

* * *

They hail a cab and send the driver to Lennox Hill. Blair's knee bounces, nervously, through out the entire journey, as she doesn't let go of Serena's hand. She's anxious, but excited. This is the first bit of hope she has felt, in what feels, like a lifetime.

As soon as the nurses gives her the go-ahead, she runs down the hallway, to his room. Lily is exiting the room, just as she reaches her destination, and smiles at her.

"He's been asking for you."

She bites her lip, to hold back a sob, and rushes into the room, to his beside. Her hands are on his face, and her lips are on his, kissing him, desperately. She needs to be close to him, touching him, surrouding him with her love.

"I love you. I love you," she murmurs against the skin of his neck, repeating the words, over and over.

"I love you, too," he says, holding her as tight as he can.

They lie together for a while, face-to-face, her eyes studying him, taking in every detail. He holds her close, breathes in her scent.

"Lily told me about the baby." She intakes a sharp breath, and closes her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Blair."

"It was her funeral today," she informs him, eyes still closed. "I didn't go."

He rests his chin on her head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head. "No. I just want to lie here, with you."

* * *

Chuck visits Scarlett's headstone, a week later, when he has been released. She refuses to go. She doesn't need another reminder that her baby is gone.

Chuck places a fresh boquet of peonies in front of the stone, cries as he thinks about the child that he could have learned to love. The cemetery is empty, snow is beginning to fall, and he's never felt so hopeless, in his whole life.

* * *

They have a quiet Christmas, just the two of them, and she actually seems happy at Serena's New Year's party. He can still hear her crying in the shower, some mornings, but he expects it. She lost her child; she's supposed to mourn.

She starts eating properly, and goes back to classes, and when Chuck suggests therapy, she agrees. Chuck thinks she is making progress.

He couldn't be more wrong.

A week after the holidays, Dorota calls him, panicked.

"What's wrong?" he asks, worried.

"Miss. Blair been drinking again. She won't wake up!"

Her stomach is pumped, as she lies on the hospital bed, lips blue and eyes closed. Chuck sits in the hallway, head in his hands, as Lily rubs his back, soothingly.

"Why is this happening? I thought she was okay."

He turns to his step-mother, clings to her like a little boy hugs his mother, as he cries against her neck. She runs her hand through his hair, tries to soothe him.

"She's going to be okay, Charles."

He wants to believe her, he really does, but he can't. The past few months have been overwhelming, for all of them, but while most of his pain was physical, Blair is still drowning in the emotional.

A councillor comes to speak to her, asks her questions. They think she tried to take her own life.

"That's not what happened!" she yells, furious at the implication.

"Then what did happen, Miss. Waldorf?" the councillor asks, gently.

"My baby died. That's what happened," she snaps. "And now I can't even walk down the street without seeing a stroller, or a toddler, or a pregnant woman!"

Chuck sits with her, holds her hand, as the doctor tells her that she is suffering with severe post-partum depression. He suggests therapy and anti-depressants. She's will to _do _anything, _take_ anything, to rid herself of the pain.

* * *

The dust settles. Therapy is going well - he even goes with her, sometimes - and on occasion, she talks about Scarlett. She doesn't say much, but her ability to willingly bring her up, is a good sign. She still has those days where she skips all her classes, and lies in bed watching Hepburn movies, and cries herself to sleep. But they become less frequent, and she always leaves her bed, when Chuck tries to take her out.

She's upset and exhausted, but she's_ trying._

Then, March arrives, and Blair is shaken. Dorota's waters break in front of her, and Blair has a panic attack. She calls Chuck and he calls his driver; tells him to take him to Blair's penthouse.

He ushers Dorota into his car, tells her that he will call Vanya, and instructs Arthur to assist her into the building of Lennox Hill, when they arrive.

"This is too much. It's too much," Blair cries, her head between her knees, as Chuck tries to calm her down.

"It's going to be fine, Blair. Dorota is going to have her baby, and it's going to be perfectly healthy," he tries to reassure her.

Her breath is coming in short pants. "But what if it isn't, Chuck?"

"It will be," he promises. "The baby is full-term, and the doctor's know what they're doing. Dorota's son will be okay."

She looks up at him, with wide, glassy eyes. "He's safe, right? The doctors can take care of him. If something goes wrong, they can fix it."

"Right," he agrees. "They are going to deliver that baby, and he is going to be a healthy, little boy."

He spends and hour reassuring her that everything is going to be okay. She eventually calms down, sips on her water as they wait in her living room. Vanya assures her that he will call, as soon as they baby is born. She knows he will stand by his word.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asks, running his hand up and down her back.

She nods. She _is_ okay; she's calm. There's no way she is going to the hospital, to watch Dorota suffer through the ordeal of childbirth, but she is going to visit her. She wants to meet her son.

And she does. Chuck and Blair visit her late at night, when her other visitors have gone home. Chuck bribes a male nurse to allow them in, at such a late hour, and sits in a plastic chair as Blair sits by Dorota's bedside.

He watches her, carefully, as she takes the baby into her arms. Her eyes are filled with tears, and her hands are trembling, but she is clearly in awe of the boy in her arms.

"Hey, sweetie," she murmurs, touching his chin. "You're so beautiful."

The room is silent as Blair cradles the baby to her chest and cries, quietly. Everyone in the room is determined to let Blair have her moment. She needs this.

When the baby starts to whimper, she reluctantly lets go, gives him back to Dorota. They leave, with her arms around his waist, and his arm looped around her shoulder. Her eyes are still wet, and heart is breaking all over again, but somehow, she feels lighter.

As they sit in the limo, she takes Chuck's hand in hers.

"Can we make one stop?" she asks.

"Sure."

It's dark, and silent in the cemetery, but it's comforting, not creepy. Blair likes that she can have this moment, completely alone.

Chuck watches from a bench as she sits down in front of the headstone, and runs her hand along the marble. She's crying, but it's okay. It isn't the first time, and it won't be the last. They have a long road ahead of them, but this a starting point.

He joins her a few minutes later, produces something from his pocket.

"What is it?" she asks, studying the red band of silk in her hand.

"It's baby headband," he says, running his fingers across the bow. "I thought you could give it to her."

She places it in front of the stone, beneath the peonies Chuck lay down, a few days ago; like he does, every week. She knows it will more than likely disappear. The wind will blow it away, and she'll never see it again. But she wants to give her daughter a gift, and the headband is perfect.

Chuck kisses her temple, shivers against the cool wind.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you home."

They stand, their hands linked together. Blair runs her hand along the headstone, one last time, and smiles, sadly.

"Bye, Scarlett. I'll be back, soon."


End file.
